


(kismet)

by thethirstisoutthere



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: s03e02 Paperclip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 15:24:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10516464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethirstisoutthere/pseuds/thethirstisoutthere
Summary: Scully packs up her late sister's apartment, with Mulder's help. Post-episode for Paper Clip, written for @txf-fic-chicks post-ep challenge.





	

Scully stood alone in Melissa’s home, packing up the remnants of her sister’s short life. It had been two weeks since the funeral, and Scully still couldn’t believe that her free-spirited sister had been buried in D.C. The city didn’t suit Melissa at all, but Scully knew why she had returned to it. After years of being on the road, hopping from boyfriend to girlfriend to job to city to religion to diet and everything in between, Melissa wanted to be with her family — to be close to her mother and her only sister. Scully wiped a tear from her eye, grateful that Melissa had spent her last few years in this staid, studio apartment in Georgetown. As Scully pulled another book from the shelves, she wondered if Melissa had known (she was so intuitive, after all) that her time on this planet would be short. But it was too morbid a thought, so Scully shook it aside.

It was the only way that Scully could get through her grief: she compartmentalized her feelings in the same way as she was left to organize Melissa’s things. She made piles: to throw away, to donate, to keep. Scully had made the choice to forgive herself for her sister’s death, to focus on the good memories and not the bullet that was meant for her. It was the only way she could go on living, and it was what Melissa would have wanted, anyway. She would have given Scully all of the bohemian advice in the known universe to calm her nerves.

Take deep breaths. Think positive thoughts. Choose joy.

Would she ever feel joy again?

It felt… impossible.

Scully slid into the dark place. The book fell from her hand. She collapsed to her knees. And wept.

***

Scully didn’t know how long she had been lying on the floor of Melissa’s apartment when she heard the knock at the door. The gentle rapping woke her and she felt a flush of embarrassment. She unravelled from her fetal position, dug her palms into the handwoven rug, and slowly, painfully, began to push herself up to stand.

Why did every simple movement feel like such a struggle?

As she rolled up vertebrae by vertebrae, Scully heard another knock. “Just a minute.”

“It’s only me. Take your time.”

Mulder.

Had she mentioned to him that she would be at Melissa’s? Maybe, in a haze… but she didn’t expect him to join her. She walked to the door and unlocked it to reveal his half-smiling face.

Her partner.

She looked at him and felt something that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She couldn’t pinpoint the feeling. Was it relief? She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but whatever the surge of emotion, she managed to suppress it.

Mulder held two coffees in a takeaway container in one hand, a bag of pastries in the other.

“I thought you could probably use a boost.” He entered the small, sunlit apartment, walked to the round dining table, and set down the coffee and food. “Croissant?”

“Not hungry. I’ll take a coffee, though. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Scully crossed over to him and lifted the coffee to her lips. They stood across from each other at the table, sipped their drinks, and said nothing. They could have taken a seat at the table, but they didn’t. Because Scully knew that if she sat with Mulder, she’d fall apart. And Mulder sensed it, ever in tune with her needs.

After a few minutes, Mulder started to pace around Melissa’s apartment, taking it in. The crystals, the plants, the dreamcatchers. The bead curtain separating her bed from the open floor plan. Books on yoga, witchcraft, Hinduism. Melissa’s Reiki certification, in a frame hanging askew on the wall.

Mulder noticed the piles. “So… you got a system?”

“Yeah. Garbage. Donate. Keep,” Scully pointed.

Mulder pulled a book from the cardboard box next to the shelves. “Ahh… _Spiritual Astrology_. I guess it’s safe for me to assume that this is getting donated?”

“You would be correct.”

“Scully, you’re a Pisces, right? Aren’t they interested in escaping reality?”

“How else could I have worked on The X-Files for so long?”

“Ha. Touché. And here I was thinking that the only thing keeping you around was my winning personality.”

Scully shot Mulder a slight smile, and felt a lightness for the first time in an eternity. It surprised her, how having Mulder in the apartment brought levity to the whole situation.

“You know,” Mulder said, “I’m about as open-minded as they come, but some of the books on these shelves are making me feel like a skeptic. This must be what it feels like to be around _me_ most of the time, huh?”

“Most of the time,” Scully grinned.

“It’s good to know you haven’t lost your sense of humour.”

“Mulder, thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being here.” Scully felt her voice crack and stopped herself just short of crying.

Mulder sensed a need to keep the mood light. “Well, these books aren’t going to donate themselves. Do you want me to just pack ‘em?”

“Sure, go ahead. I can start working on the dishes. I think some of them belonged to my grandmother — my mom might want them.”

“How is your mom?”

“She…” Scully took a breath before continuing, “she still has a hard time being here. So… that’s why I’m flying solo. Bill is shipping out to Japan on Thursday and Charlie is… being Charlie.”

Ahh, the mysterious, estranged brother. Mulder knew that their relationship was a touchy subject and felt it best not to press.

“Hey Scully - do you think the Salvation Army will even accept this book or do they draw the line at the Occult?” He held up a black book with a pentagram on the cover.

“Someone will take them, just not me.”

“You sure you don’t want any of these books? Imagine how good they’d look sitting next to your medical textbooks.”

“Mulder - ”

“ _Crystal Enlightenment_  next to _Applied Physiology in Intensive Care Medicine_? Gives me chills!”

“They’d revoke my licence.”

“It would certainly scare off any potential mates.”

“Oh, yes,” Scully rolled her eyes, “for my revolving door of suitors. You do realize that you’re the only man that’s entered my home in the last four years?”

Mulder smiled. He was happy to hear it. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Not yet.

“You know, Melvin Frohike is also single and _very_ interested,” he said instead.

“Mulder - this china may be an heirloom but don’t think I won’t throw it at you.”

Mulder chuckled. He continued to pack the books from the shelves into boxes, while Scully worked away in the kitchen cupboards.

***

They spent the rest of the day sorting Melissa’s things, mostly in silence. Mulder checked in with Scully occasionally, but only when he was unsure of where to place something. Having Mulder around kept Scully from retreating into her grief, and she was thankful for it. Hours had passed and they had accomplished more together than Scully had on her own in a week. This is what their partnership was like —  easy, safe, comfortable. They complemented each other, worked well together, even in the darkest times.

Scully stood in the tiny bathroom, packing up toiletries. Never one to waste, she resolved to take whatever she could use at home, but drew the line at crystal deodorant. At least Melissa’s soaps were nice.

The bathroom door was wide open, giving Scully full view of Mulder across the apartment. He was standing in the light of the bay window, carefully placing small potted plants in milk crates. Focused on the task, his eyes were clear and sharp and earnest. Scully felt a pang in her heart as she watched this soulful man. He had become such a fixture in her life over the last three years. Her thoughts turned back to Melissa, and how she was really the only member of Scully’s family who supported her decision to join the FBI.

It wasn’t about the work, Melissa had said, but about the people she’d meet.

“I can sense these things, Dana. You’re being drawn from medicine for a higher purpose, and it’s not just because you’ll be fulfilled by the work. You’re destined to meet someone very special at the bureau. They’re going to change your entire life.”

At the time, Scully rolled her eyes — she was used to Melissa’s unsolicited psychic readings and didn’t give them much weight.

But looking at Mulder across the apartment, Scully knew that her sister had been right. Her relationship with Mulder, though platonic, was the deepest she had ever experienced with another person. Maybe it would turn romantic someday — but for now, Scully was content to simply have Mulder be the constant in her life.

And Melissa really liked him. That counted for something.

“Hey Scully - check this out!” Mulder reached behind the pot of a large philodendron and lifted a small Buddha statue. “What do you think he’s doing back here?”

Scully placed the last of Melissa’s toiletries in the small cardboard box and walked over to meet Mulder at the bay window.

“Was your sister Buddhist?” he asked.

“I think she believed in a lot of things.”

“Hmm. It’s weird that she’d have it stashed behind a plant. You’d think it be on display somewhere. I’m not super familiar with Buddhism but I’m pretty certain that you’re supposed to keep the statue elevated.”

Scully raised her eyebrow.

“You know, for maximum protection.”

“Well… maybe you were supposed to find him, Mulder. I think you should keep it.”

“You don’t want it?”

“I’d feel like I’d be living a lie having it in my house, and there’s no way anyone else in my family would take it. Besides, I think Melissa would want you to have something of hers. To thank you. For being here. For me.”

Mulder didn’t feel like arguing with a grieving woman, least of all Scully.

“I think it’s kismet, Mulder.”

“Since when do you believe in fate?”

Scully shrugged. “I just have a feeling that the Buddha is meant for you.”

They shared a smile.

“Scully, do you feel like eating now? We’re making good progress. I say we call it a day, grab some dinner, and pick everything up tomorrow. You in? I’m buying.”

“Sure. But take the Buddha now so it doesn’t get mixed up with everything else.”

“I’m not leaving without him. You Buddha believe it, Scully!”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

They grabbed their coats, walked out the door, and decided on pizza.

***

Melissa’s Buddha statue sat in Mulder’s car for the next few weeks. When Mulder re-discovered him during a routine car clean-up, he felt guilty for having abandoned him. He gingerly pulled the statue out of the trunk and carried him home. Not being a practicing Buddhist, Mulder felt weird about having the statue on display, but he still wanted to keep it as a memento — of Melissa, of Scully, of everything they’d been through together. The only square inch of his apartment that wasn’t obvious (but still respectful, he thought) was underneath the fish tank. He made sure the statue was elevated, and faced him east. Mulder admired the Buddha’s peaceful countenance in the warm green glow of the aquarium for a moment, but then he went to sleep and forgot about it.

It was there that Melissa’s Buddha statue stayed for many years, out of sight and out of mind, but nonetheless keeping a watchful gaze on the comings and goings of Fox Mulder. He was there when Mulder faked his own death, and when Teena Mulder took her own life. And he was there on that fateful night when two lost and beautiful souls finally joined, consummating their relationship.

And from that moment, Mulder and Scully’s lives changed forever. They were soulmates — just as Melissa Scully had predicted.


End file.
